Conflict Resolution
by Abigail-Nicole
Summary: Fluffy. DN. Really, that's it.


**Conflict-Resolution**

**Summary: **fluffy. DN. Really, that's it.

* * *

"I don't want to live with you. I want to live at Pirate Swoop."

"Magelet, please."

Daine stuck out her chin defiantly. "I like it there," she said. "Besides, you don't want me living with you anyway. All my friends would mess up your books."

"Daine. You are being ridiculous."

"Oh? What does it matter, anyway? You're not there half the time."

"Neither are you," Numair pointed out. "I was merely saying that if and when we're both home, it would be silly for us to be that far away from each other."

Daine raised an eyebrow. "Silly?" she asked.

"Well, yes," Numair argued. "We still have to do lessons every day, after all."

"You alreayd said you had taught me everything you could about wild magic," Daine said flatly.

"Other lessons," Numair said. "History. Politics. Sociology. Magic is not the only thing you need to know."

"But I want to keep helping Onua and the Riders," Daine said. "Besides, it's not far. It's not like you couldn't come see me."

"What, you wouldn't come see me?" Numair asked, but it was still a concession.

"Of course I'd come see you," Daine retorted. "But look at this place! It's a mess. You can't even keep a housekeper anymore. I don't even want to know what's growing in your dishes."

"At least say you'll keep a room," Numair said. "Please."

"What do I need a room for?" she asked. "Can't I stay with you?"

Numair turned bright red. "People will talk," he said swiftly. "I just don't want you to seem disreputable or dishonorable because of me."

Daine chuckled. "Seem?" She put a hand on her hip. "We're both adults, you now," she said. "We're allowed to canoodle if we want."

Numair turned, if possible, redder. "Straight to the point," he muttered. "As ever. But Daine, I won't--I can't--do that, not to you. I can't take advantage of you like that."

"And who says it'd be taking advantage?" Daine asked. "How am I any different from all those blonde women at court?"

Numair ducked his head. "Relentless!" he muttered. "You never let up, do you." It was not a question.

"It's a fair point," said Daine, sitting across from him. "I'm an adult, just like they were. I'm alllowed to do what I want."

"But you're so much younger," Numair said. "You've got your whole life ahead of you. You can't let me decide that for you."

Daine snorted. "I'm good at deciding things for myself, thank you," she said. "The way you talk about me, it sounds like I've never done a thing on my own."

"This is just a difficult situation," Numair said, sitting back in his chair. "Daine, this is a teacher-student relationship. Not only will people talk, but I'd be breaking that bond of trust between us if I hurt you."

"Is that what this is about?" Daine asked. "You're afriad of hurting me?"

"Yes!" said Numair, his voice snapping. "If any harm came to you--even through me, especially through me--Daine, I could never forgive myself."

Daine stood up and walked to Numair, twining his hair in her fingers. Softly, she kissed the top of his head. "I love you," he said. "But it would be wrong to force you into anything."

Daine tilted his head back. "Who says you'd be forcing me?" she murmured. "Who says I wouldn't be forcing you?"

* * *

She slept for three days. The first day was the longest, when Numair sat by her bedside with nothing to do but worry, hold her hand, stare at her face, her even gentle breaths. In the stillness of the room, he wondered if he'd ever see her blue eyes again, or if she'd slip into a coma, never to wake up. The bader had said she'd be all right, but holding hte power of a god wasn't just like getting the flu. Numair knew, from his studies, too many accounts of what happened to those gods used for their own ends.

He kept seeing her body, like a memory, in his head. The line of her face as she looked up at him on the ship. The curve of her body as she dropped her hyena shape in shock, the curve that he didn't think about, didn't think about at all except when the darkness of night pressed in on him from every side. Somewhere, a little gut-wrench of protectiveness made him ashamed of this want, this need, to have her body solidly against his own. The first night he had kept the vigil, told Alanna to get some sleep on the voyage home and sat up with her, holding a book but unable to read. He had wanted to crawl in beside her, encircle her frail body with his arms, press his forehead to her own and just lie there with her, bringning himself solace from their physical touch. But he didn't. When the daylight came and found him sleepless in his chair, his book hadn't even been opened.

One day, he thought to himself, that urge was going to be too strong to resist.

And then all of a sudden it was.

Protectiveness was all well and good, at first. He allowed himself to feel protectiveness. That was almost natural, a perfectly healthy response to a treasured student. Caring, that was a natural response too. And affection...well, that followed from caring, right? That was nearly permissible too. Admiration, for a bright mind. Perfectly natural. Curiosity and fascination of an unknown ability, and the desire to see that ability live and thrive. He could even permit himself that. Even physical admiration he allowed himself, in a cold way, acknowledging her natural beauty, the crinkles in her mouth when she laughed, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, or curled her hair around a finger without noticing.

It drove him crazy when she curled her hair around a finger.

Or when she stood too close to him, looking at him with that particular smile on her face. Or when she happened to turn towards him as they slept in camp. Or the way she borrowed his cloak when it got cold, the thick folds enveloping her fragile body and making him aware of just how small it was, how easily it would fit into his arms.

The locket was just a trinket. After all. He couldn't help it, not after that. Not after all those times he'd nearly lost her. So when he found her this time, that was it for his self-control, really.

* * *

"Numair?"

Her voice was soft, coming out of the space directly beside his bed. Numair didn't stir, and she struggled, batting her wings before landing on her bed. She formed a human mouth again.

"Numair?"

He stirred this time, rolling over on the pillow so that his face became visible. "Hmm?"

It was hard to maintain both forms at once. Daine gave up the bat form, letting her limbs lengthen as she slid back into human shape. It was easier to attain since her time with Numair. Unashamed of her nakedness, she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I just wanted to come see you," she said softly. Numair opened one eye at her, then rolled over and pulled back the blankets, motioning for her to get under the covers. She slipped between them, into his welcoming embrace.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his lips in her hair.

"I just felt like seeing you," she said. "I don't know."

Numair opened his eyes, looking down at her. "You're not worried about this upcoming trip, are you?"

Daine avoided his eyes. "I just don't like it," she said, her voice stubborn, and he laughed. "I don't see why you have to go, and why I can't go with you--"

Numair silenced her by pulling her tighter. "It's only for a few weeks, magelet," he said, smoothing her hair with one hand. "Just to look at some research at the University. You'd be bored to tears if you came, and Onua needs you here."

"I still don't have to like it," Daine mumbled into his chest. Numair said nothing and kissed her hair. His fingers stroked her back.

"Are you aware," he asked after a moment, "that you are wearing no clothes?"

"Well, there's the blanket," she said. "No one's going to see. No one important, anyway."

"Glad to know your opinion of me," he said, running a hand lightly down her back, making her shiver. She became painfully aware of the thin nightshirt separating their bodies. "Sure you don't want to marry me? There'd be no sneaking about if you married me."

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe I like sneaking."

"Really?" he murmured, but suddenly his lips were doing much more interesting things than talking, all the way up and down her neck and shoulders and it was getting hard to focus on what he said when his tongue moved like that--

"I can't think when you do that," she breathed, quoting his own words.

"You think too much," he said, smiling against her skin, and that was all they said for quite some time.


End file.
